


Order

by OneLastMiracle (orphan_account)



Series: Untitled [14]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Date, Implied Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/OneLastMiracle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Part of a series of small drabbles, done for the 30 Drabble A Day challenge. Not necessarily connected, can be read as a standalone or small parts. All stories are not necessarily in the same universe, so there may be little to no continuity. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Order

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series of small drabbles, done for the 30 Drabble A Day challenge. Not necessarily connected, can be read as a standalone or small parts. All stories are not necessarily in the same universe, so there may be little to no continuity. Enjoy!

It was often that John and Sherlock went to eat when they weren’t on a case; neither man could cook, so it stood to reason they pay someone else to do it. But it was seldom  that Sherlock ordered anything. He hardly ever ate, outside the times John forced a sandwich down his throat every few days. But this had become their practice: John ordered and ate alone while Sherlock sat opposite, rambling, thinking, or, occasionally, observing his flatmate.

So when Sherlock ordered the Carbonara at Angelo’s, John was rightly worried. He waited a moment until the waiter had gone to mention it. “Are you alright?” Sherlock looked up. “You’re not pregnant or anything, right?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but answered candidly. “The impossibility of the latter due to my male anatomy aside, no.” He tilted his head, watching John. “Why?”

The doctor shrugged. “Since when do you _order_ anything? Usually I have to force feed you, so something’s changed.”

A look crossed Sherlock’s features, the same one that appeared whenever he happened upon a social nicety John had to explain, when the unspoken, illogical rules of society were confounding. “It was my understanding that this was the normal custom of a date. Am I wrong in this assumption?”

John, shocked beyond words, took a moment to answer. “Well, generally, yes. But that’s assuming you normally eat when you visit a restaurant. It’s not like we went out simply to _eat_. You don’t have to change any normal behaviour because this is a _date_ instead of _eating out._ ”

Sherlock’s forehead wrinkled, taking this new information and undoubtedly storing it in his mind palace. Their food arrived then, and the conversation was dropped. Though, he took it to heart, apparently; while John started on his Ravioli, Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin and turned inward. The doctor sighed as his friend’s hot plate turned cold and remained untouched in front of him.

_Well, at least I know he’s not changing on my account._


End file.
